Last night after my husband and children were asleep, I sat up and watched my favorite shows, and noticed something very odd for our household. The dead silence.... With a house full of guys, that is a very scary sound, and one that only happens every now and then. As I got ready for bed, I crept into the boys' room, and spied on them. Toby had his legs hanging off the toddler bed that he almost fills up and was wrapped in a cocoon of Thomas the Train blankets even though it wasn't cold, and Baby Thatcher was stretched out on his belly, with the quietest of a little snore.
I stood there for a minute and just listened to the sounds of my children, sweet and innocent in the dark... Taking in the smells and the feeling, trying to burn them and that very moment into my mind forever.
Around 2am, Baby Thatcher stirred awake and I went in to check on him. I picked him up and went into the living room and snuggled in my chair, holding that little bundle of flesh and hair, with his dark eyes looking into mine. I nuzzled my face into his neck and took the deepest breath.... Ahhhh..... There's nothing like the smell of a baby .... The smell of just awakened sleep, the milk on his breath, and the warmth of his skin.... I will do my best to never forget that smell, because soon, very soon, Thatcher won't be a baby anymore and I will miss those quiet middle of the night sessions that were made just for us.
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